


Fireworks

by professionalpotts



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bifrost, Brian Banner's A+ Parenting, Circus Performer Clint Barton, Domestic Avengers, Fireworks, Minor Violence, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Iron Man 1, Red Room (Marvel), The Avengers Need a Hug, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 03:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19455694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/professionalpotts/pseuds/professionalpotts
Summary: The most random things can remind people of their pasts.Or: How on 4th of July, all of the avengers end up watching cartoons together.





	Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 4th of July! In honor of this weird holiday, I decided to write an angsty fic. Enjoy!!

The loud boom of fireworks shook the upper floor of the tower. Tony couldn’t help but flinch as he saw the bright colors flash across the sky. It reminded him of his past. Reminded him of the days he wasn’t so proud of. Way back, when he thought that sex, parties, drugs, and drinking were a solid life plan just because he was rich. When he completely isolated himself from Pepper and Rhodey because he ruined everything he touched. There were many things he wasn’t comfortable with, that he still regrets saying and doing.

_He stumbled through the large crowd in Dubai. There were practically-naked girls everywhere flinging themselves on him. He had one on each arm, though that was more for show than anything else. Sleezy businessmen followed him everywhere, desperate to get him to agree to something that they had no chance of getting approved when he was sober. Let’s be real here though, how often was he ever sober? The music was loud, thumping in his ears at a pace that matched his heartbeat. Fireworks exploded overhead showing off bright colors that dazzled him._

_When the girls and he reached the house, he finally slurred his true thoughts. “Honestly, I’m not comfortable with this and I don’t think I ever have been.”  
They just smiled and nodded, though they didn’t release their grip on him. He just thought ‘screw it’ and did what was expected of him. He barely remembered anything the next morning, though his heart still beat crazy fast from anxiety and alcohol and the bright colors danced beneath closed eyelids._

_He wishes he could say this is the first time something like this had happened. This wasn’t the last time either. Each time it ended the same way. He always remembered the boom of fireworks with their bright colors that perpetually dazzled him._

_Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist._

_That was his entire identity. Nobody saw through the mask and nobody even tried too. They all knew him and what he was like. A shit show of a person._

He shook himself away from his thoughts and focused on the wall in front of him. He didn’t want to go back to those thoughts. Become so deep in his memories that all he could do is toss and turn with guilt and regret. He knew that he would just be plagued with his past in his nightmares if he slept, so he didn’t even bother. Instead, he headed to the communal kitchen.

He doesn’t know why he went there. He had his own kitchen on his own floor. He didn’t even really want to see anybody. Maybe it was because the floor just felt lived in, and he could feel surrounded by people, without actually having to see them.

Maybe just a reminder of the kind of people he was around now would help him.

Clint did not like fireworks. He knew that before today, before last year, and probably since he joined SHIELD. Spoiler alert: that probably wasn’t going to change. There were too many memories associated with this form of entertainment. Why do people even like fireworks? They are loud and bright. Maybe he is just biased. Not everybody got traumatized by reminders of a circus.

_The bright light and loud booms of fireworks startled Clint and made him jump out of his light sleep. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and quickly got up and put his costume on. To be honest, he looked ridiculous. His purple, white, and black skintight circus costume that he used to do flips and tricks while shooting his bow.  
Shooting his bow was the only upside to performing in this shit show._

_“Come on, Clint. It’s show time.” His brother Barney called to him from outside the room._

_“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.” He grumbled, following the other Barton out into the ring._

_He did his usual performance, dancing around like some sort of show pony and demonstrating his skills as the great ‘Hawkeye.’ As per usual, the people adored him._

_He went off stage and headed back to change into his regular clothes and out of this god-awful costume. As he wandered down the rows of small changing areas and circus ‘offices’ looking for his own, he stumbled across some shady business of the ringmaster’s. Obviously, this was a pure accident, as he got genuinely lost. Unfortunately, when the ringmaster saw that Clint had caught him embezzling money, he was not let off the hook._

_Though, it wasn’t like Clint was going to let him get away with it anyway._

_They packed up the circus in record time. As everyone was getting ready to leave, the ringmaster finally got his revenge. To keep his trap shut, the lackeys of the ringmaster, which included Barney, beat him up and left him for dead._

_He laid on the ground, broken and bleeding, and stared up at the sky as the town set off fireworks to celebrate the circus that had been in town._

_Isn’t it lovely how something as beautiful and cheerful as fireworks can represent something as cynical and hellish as a circus?_

He slammed his fists against his bed in anger. He was tired of still getting these reminders of the circus and his dick brother. The fact that he came so close to death at the hand of people he thought he could trust (or at least as much as he could trust people). Fireworks has got to be the shittiest trigger for a person. They’re supposed to represent celebration, yet here he is, freaking out.

Knowing he wasn’t going to be able to sleep, he decided to head into the kitchen. He expected to be alone, but lo and behold, Tony Stark was sitting on the counter drinking coffee.

“Hey there, Merida. Doing alright?” The billionaire asked.

Clint shrugged, leaning against the counter. “Couldn’t sleep. You?”

“Same. Want some coffee?” Tony asked, having already filled up a cup knowing his answer.

“Would love some.” The archer replied, accepting the cup.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Tony broke the silence by asking, “Want to talk about it?”

“Do you?” Clint retorted.

They both knew the answer, so Tony changed the subject. “I think some cartoons are on. Up for it?”

“Always.” They both headed to the couch.

Thor was not always as aloof as he may seem. He, like all the other heroes, has his traumatic memories. One of which he gets reminded of by fireworks. The bright flashing colors that once reminded him of home, now remind him of the Bifrost and all of the unfortunate things that happened that day.

_Thor brought his hammer down on the bridge, the quickly moving colors breaking apart. He hit it again and more cracks appeared. He could hear his brother yelling in the back about how he would never see Jane again. As much as that hurt him, he had to protect his kingdom. He brought it down again a third time and it had mostly split apart. By the fourth hit, the Bifrost shattered, sending the observatory of the edge of the realm._

_Suddenly, he and Loki were falling into the abyss before Odin caught him. Thor stared down at his brother’s broken expression and felt the emotion overcome him._

_“I could’ve done it!” Loki cries out, as tears well up in his eyes._

_“No, Loki.” Odin says, staring disappointedly at the god of mischief._

_Thor realized a second too late what was going to happen. Loki let go of the staff and he fell into the vortex below. Thor was soon after pulled up, and he stared at the ground as he returned to the palace, the rainbow colors passing like a current beneath him._

Despite the fact that Loki had returned, that was still a terrible memory for him. No, Thor did not like bright colors. He decided to push these thoughts from his mind and head downstairs for a Poptart. They were, of course, in the kitchen, so he made the journey out. He expected to fins snacks in the kitchen. What he did not expect to find was the man of iron and his bird themed friend watching an animated tv show on the large tv, giggling at a dog and his elderly owners. After he grabs a package of a dessert and a mug of the already made coffee, he wanders over to his teammates.

“What are you men watching?”

“Courage the Cowardly Dog.” Clint grins, as the show continues to play.

“May I ask why?”

“We couldn’t sleep.” The billionaire shrugged.

The God frowned. “I too faced the same difficulties.”

“Would you like to join us?” Tony offered, scooting over to allow Thor a place on the couch.

“If it would not be too much trouble.” Thor smiled, sheepishly.

“Of course not! We made four bowls of popcorn.” Clint smiled, and gestured to the table in front of them that was filled with popcorn bowls of various colors and styles.

“Alright then.” Thor nodded.

He wedged himself between Tony and the side of the couch and just like that, their sleepless party of two became three.

The loud booming sound of the fireworks made Bruce subconsciously flinch. In his head, he knew that he was in no danger here and that it was just fireworks to celebrate the independence of the nation, but he couldn’t help it. Loud noises were usually an issue for him in general, but fireworks, because of the sheer magnitude and the way the make the ground tremble, are sometimes worse than other things. When another boom shook the tower, he found himself transported back to the eighties, when he still lived at home with his father.

_“You’re ridiculous. Look at him! He’s just a baby!” His mother wailed, as Brian Banner downed another cup of whiskey._

_“He’s almost seven years old, Rebecca. He’s old enough to actually be a goddamn person.” The man growled, glaring at his son who cowered behind his mother._

_He stood up and roughly grabbed the boy’s arm and dragged him to the stairs._

_“Stop!” Rebecca Banner cried, rushing after the pair._

_“Go upstairs, Robert. Go!” He shoved the boy up the stairs with more force than necessary, causing him to trip and tumble down, falling harshly on his left arm._

_“Leave him alone or I’ll-” Bruce’s mother threatened, picking up the boy._

_“You’ll what?”_

_She ignores the question and storms towards the door, forgetting everything else. “C’mon Bruce. We’re leaving.”_

_“Where do you think you’ll go? You have nobody else.” He frowned following them._

_“Anywhere is better than here.” She threw open the door and stepped outside into the stormy weather. Bruce’s head was pounding, and the loud noise of his father and the thunder  
made it worse. As his mother threw open the car door, she gave one last threat – “You’ll hear from our lawyers.”_

_“Get back here.” He demanded stepping outside._

_“No.”_

_Brian turned to his son, “Robert, go into the house.”_

_“Don’t do it, Bruce.” His mother contradicted._

_“Shut up!”_

_Brian Banner became a murderer that night. The only thing the young Bruce Banner was able to process was his mother’s bloody body and his father’s threating words to him._

_“You won’t tell a soul about this or you’re next.”_

Modern-day Bruce shuddered and released his clenched fists. He took a deep breath, trying to slow his heart rate. He knew that if he couldn’t relax in some way, his team might get an unfortunate visit from the Hulk. Luckily, this is not his first flashback to that night. Usually during thunderstorms, he goes down to the lab to work with Tony because it is sound proofed, and he finds the work relaxing.

With that idea, he decides to head to the kitchen, grab a cup of tea, and go to work. It was obvious once he reached his desired destination, however, that his plans would change. He found Thor, Tony, and Clint all gathered on the couch watching a cartoon.

“Hi guys.” Bruce greeted shyly from the kitchen.

Tony’s face lit up. “Hey Brucie-Bear!” 

“What’s up?”

“We couldn’t sleep.” Clint shrugged.

“Alright then…” 

“Are you alright, Banner?” Thor asked, concerned.

“Yes, thank you. I think I might just go down and work in the lab for a little bit though.” Bruce tried, as he weakly backed away towards the lab.

“Nonsense!” Thor demanded.

Tony whined, “C’mon, Bruce!”

“Sit with us!” Clint waved him over.

“O-okay. I guess I will.” He stuttered nervously as he entered the living room.

Bruce took the armchair next to the couch and focused his attention onto the weird cartoon they were watching. Even though the fireworks still went off around him, he was able to find some semblance of peace here, surrounded by his real family, with his full attention focused on a weird dog.

Natasha Romanov did not have a stellar childhood. It was filled with murder, violence, and brainwashing. She hated to be remined of that, though not a minute went by where she was not impacted by that history. Fireworks, especially, were not something that she could appreciate. The ones that took off into the air and exploded with a dozen crackles reminded of a particular day that haunted her nightmares.

_The fire of gunshots echoed around her, waking her up from her light sleep. She immediately glanced around to see that the other girls around her were in a similar state of panic and confusion. She tried to sit up before remembering that her wrists were chained to the bed posts to keep her from escape._

_The gunshots rang louder and more clearly, alerting her that the people were closer. She had to get out of her._

_She made a split second decision to ensure that she wouldn’t change her mind. She smashed her hand against the post as hard as she could, multiple times, breaking her hand. Now that she had done that, she could, with some effort, slip her hand free of the cuffs. Now that she had one hand free, the rest was easy. She picked the other lock, to release both her hands before moving onto the girls around her._

_Her training had showed her not to show weakness or compassion, so she convinced herself that this was for business reasons. As they freed each other, they all shared the same thought. ‘Thank you for helping me. This means nothing though if I ever come across you again.’ It was the same though the red room had instilled in them._

_Just as all the girls except Natasha had entered the sewer to escape, a person entered the room. The man that entered she recognized as one of the scientists. Even though they were on the same team, he shot at her ripping through her arm. He would rather kill her than let her escape. She rushed towards him and, using her years of intense training, disarmed the gun from him. She shot him between the eyes to ensure that he would not come after her before following the rest of the black widows._

Gunshots were not a trigger for her. They were controlled and she knew what was happening in general. Plus, in her line of work, that is not something that can affect you. However, the fireworks were random and spread out all around her, like the gunshots had on that day. They sounded too similar.

She decided to just head to the kitchen, hoping that if she has a cup of coffee, she can turn her sleeplessness into something productive. When she enters the living room and sees most of the team on the couch, she isn’t surprised. She knows that she can’t be the only one who struggles with fireworks as a reminder of unfortunate things. She was aware of Clint’s issues for sure, but he told her not to worry when she approached the topic earlier that day.

She debated asking them what was going on but decided against it. Natasha didn’t show weakness. She didn’t talk about her feelings, cry, or do any of those healthy coping mechanisms. Instead, she stuffed down those feelings, along with her memories of the Red Room, and took a seat on the floor in front of Clint.

“Do you want to talk about it?” The archer asked, tentatively. 

“Is that what you boys have been doing down here? Talking about your feelings?” She teased.

“No, but isn’t that what you girls like to do?” Tony asked, mocking innocence.

“Watch it, Stark.”

Steve had such a good day. It was his birthday, for gosh sakes. Tony had thrown him this personal, yet elaborate party and everything. It was so fun. Unfortunately, Steve’s birthday was fourth of July. It is unfortunate that it relates to fireworks because he hated them. Well, not hated them, per se. He loved the bright colors and the sense of unity they bring. Plus, the obvious fact that they celebrated freedom of the nation. What he didn’t appreciate however is the loud boom that happens when they go off. The put him back into the forties during the war.

_He was trying to raid a HYDRA base with a troop of about twenty men. They stealthily walked through a forest before stumbling across the building in southern Germany. They ducked down, waddling through the tall grass when a large boom shook the ground, knocking some of the guys to the ground. Another mine went off, knocking out the back half of his troop._

_“Fall back! Fall back!” He called trying to keep them away from the ambush._

_It didn’t work. More of them got blasted to the side until it was just him and the few commandos that came with him. A mine went off right in front of Steve and he was thrown backwards into a thick forest. Thanks to his healing, he knew he would recover, but laying there, deep in the mud, not knowing whether HYDRA would find him or how much of his troop survived, he was scared._

_It didn’t help that there were many instances like this._

He shook himself out of his thoughts and tried to focus on something better. Like his team that were probably all asleep in their rooms around him, safe and not in immediate danger. Another example is the delicious strawberry cake in the fridge downstairs. Speaking of that, maybe going into the kitchen and taking a few bites of that and maybe trying to sketch a little will help him put his mind at ease.

When he got to the commons room however, he realized things were not as empty as they seemed with the entire rest of the team watching tv and eating snacks. When they noticed him, they all had soft smiles.

“Hey, Capsicle! Snuck in for more cake or something? I have some bad news; Clint and I ate it about fifteen minutes ago.” Tony joked.

“No, I just… couldn’t sleep.”

“you too, huh?” Bruce asks with a sad smile.

“Yes.”

“We are watching Courage the Cowardly Dog to keep our minds off things. Want to join?” Clint asked, reaching over and patting the seat of the armchair next to him.

“Sure.” Steve watched it for a few minutes before admitting, “I don’t really understand what’s happening.”

“Well a theory says that everything is just dramatized because it takes place from the perspective of an excitable dog, but the point is this weird human-like dog helps his elderly   
owners and defeats evil in the process.” Tony explains in great detail.

“That’s… cool, I guess?” 

“Yes! I am quite enjoying myself.” Thor confirmed, shoving another handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“Just double-checking, no one here has any desire to talk about their nightmares?” Bruce asks, and they all gave him a look. “Got it.”

“What a fun little group we are. Ice cream?” Clint passed the tub of butter pecan to Steve.

At that point, their dysfunctional little group was solidified. All six of them, watching cartoons, eating snacks, and not talking about their problems. That flinched each time another firework went off and pretended not to notice when the others did the same. 

Though at least none of them felt alone.


End file.
